


What I Have Left

by GizmoTrinket



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Suicide, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10065596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GizmoTrinket/pseuds/GizmoTrinket
Summary: An angsty little fic I wrote because I'm depressed and I haven't written anything "for fun" for ages.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta or britpicker. You already know this if you've ever read anything by me. :P

The divorce was final, the child wasn't John's. He was free. The first place he went was over to Sherlock's to share the good news. He had plans; he was going to tell the man he loved him. He'd loved him since the day they first met. Sherlock was the sun, the stars, the cosmos in entirety. He was life; he was the spring, the summer, the warmth and the breeze.

"Sherl- Oh."

"John! I-" Sherlock was blushing.

"Oh, _this_ is John. Nice to meet you, I'm Victor." Victor said. He stood, extending his hand to John with a smile as if he hadn't just been caught necking on the couch like a teenager.

"John." John said in a daze. He shook the man's hand while staring at the purpling bruises lining Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock shrunk away from John's gaze.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" The blond doctor asked the tall blond man.

Victor laughed. "I'm Sherlock's fiancé. I just asked and Sherlly here said yes."

"Sherlly?!"

Victor laughed again. "Well, he needed a nickname. He told me he'd never had one. Well, except for Freak but that doesn't count." Then in a stage whisper he confided, "Don't get the wrong idea about the femininity, he gives as good as he gets."

"What?" John was positive this is what shock felt like. He needed a blanket. And to sit. He went to his chair to find it replaced with a classy expensive green number.

Sherlock looked out the window. Could this get any more awkward?

"Oh, right. Sherlly had a bit of an accident and lit the other one on fire. After Christmas, wasn't it? Once you were freed from Rehab and cleared for murder?"

Sherlock nodded, unable to say anything.

John could read between the lines, it was after he forgave his wife and Sherlock's suicide plans were thwarted. If Mycroft had been two minutes later with the video Sherlock would be dead from overdose. But, the doctor hadn't known his best friend had been in rehab. The brunette hadn't been answering his phone and John just assumed the other man was in jail. Shaken, John sat in the horrible chair. It was more comfortable than his was. It didn't need a pillow for additional back support either.

"Looks like you two could use a minute. I'll go get the milk, yeah love?"

Ten minutes after Victor left John asked, "Married?"

"Mm." Was the reply. "We've been dating for over a year now."

It had been two since John had even bothered trying to reach the enigmatic genius. He had been working out his wife's back story, her betrayal, contacting Rosie's real father...

"Any advice?" Sherlock asked. "For my marriage?"

"Don't do anything I would do."

"Isn't the phrase 'don't do anything I wouldn't do'?"

John swallowed and looked at the mussed man; his shirt now fastened one button off. "Yes. But I make bad choices, so don't be like me."

Sherlock focused his piercing gaze on his prior flatmate. "Oh." His mouth did the little o that John loved.

Mrs. Hudson knocked on the open door with her customary, "Yoo hoo!" before entering. "Oh, hello John." She said coolly. "Sherlock, where's your lovely young man gone off to?"

"Milk."

She sighed. "He's a dear, isn't he? So patient, never complains unless you drug him."

John winced. He'd thrown one of Mrs. Hudson's good teacups into the fireplace when Sherlock experimented on the milk and didn't label it. It wasn't even Sherlock's fault that time, he'd left it out on the table and John should have known by then that if anything was next to chemistry equipment it wasn't safe. Sherlock had been called away moments before and hadn't had time to stick a label on it. The label was sitting on the table next to the carton. The blond hadn't noticed.

"Yes, well, I've gotten better about labelling."

"I'm just glad you've finally fallen for someone who's capable of loving you back this time. At least, capable of admitting it." She glared at the doctor before depositing some scones and leaving.

"You know, right?"

Sherlock nodded. "Always have. But, I can't be what you have left, a last resort. I deserve better."

John stood. "Right." He nodded. "Right, well. I think that's my cue. To leave. Now."

Sherlock looked away. "That's probably best. You're invited to the wedding if you want. Don't worry; I won't make you best man." He turned back and smiled a brittle smile.

Taking an invitation John thanked his best friend and left.

No black car appeared. No one drugged him off the street. No one looked at him twice. No one noticed when he walked in front of the bus.

No one came to the hospital.

Harry was in no state to plan a funeral and no one ever told Sherlock, Victor or their adopted daughter what happened.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to hell.


End file.
